


i'm caught in the feeling

by svatantrata



Category: LOONA (Korea Band), NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Athletes, Drabble Collection, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svatantrata/pseuds/svatantrata
Summary: There’s some part of Sicheng that’s afraid they’ll never meet, and it’s easier to not care about Yuta when he doesn’t know what he looks like or sounds like.[drabble collection; latest update: yuta/winwin, soulmates!au]





	1. hyunjin/heejin, track!au

**Author's Note:**

> i need some place to post my curiouscat drabble fills because otherwise i'd lose them~~ it's mostly nct with some loona!

Like most track meets, today Hyunjin finishes the mile with a bout of quiet applause. No one bothers to watch it, really; in a sport like track and field, where most events are completed in a matter of seconds, Hyunjin’s below-five-minute mile doesn’t impress anyone.

That’s fine, though. She’s never been the flashy type, and once she finishes she watches the rest of the other events play out, Jaemin and Chaewon bracketing her. The three of them run long-distance, more comfortable with the shaded woods of cross country than the short mile they need to run for track meets.

There’s a clamor in the stands, and that’s when Hyunjin knows that the 100-meter is starting. Almost on instinct, she starts to get up—but when she notices that neither Jaemin or Chaewon stand up with her, she moves to sit back down. She can feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

“Come on, you should go,” Chaewon says, pushing her gently.

“Yeah,” Jaemin adds, mouth pulling into a smirk. “Gotta go watch the star athlete, right?”

“Shut up,” Hyunjin orders, flicking Jaemin’s forehead.

But she gets up, and she watches, because hey, Jaemin’s right: there’s something about watching Heejin Jeon that’s relentlessly captivating. She’s got good form, good times, and a smile that could break a million hearts.

The race is over within a matter of seconds, Heejin coming in first place and Yeojin pulling up behind her in second, merely milliseconds off.

Hyunjin watches, tries not to think—oh, that’s the girl I like, I want her—and crushes all of that feeling underneath her chest.

 

—

 

“Hyunjin, right?”

Hyunjin startles out while she's filling her water bottle, and half of the contents spill out onto the pavement.

Heejin giggles, nervous. “Sorry about that,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It doesn't stay there, and Hyunjin resists the urge to adjust it for her. “But you’re Hyunjin, right?”

Hyunjin nods. She takes in Heejin’s brilliant smile, the way wisps of hair have escaped her ponytail to frame her face, trying not to stare too long at Heejin’s muscled thighs.

“You did really well on the mile,” Heejin tells her.

Hyunjin makes a sound of disbelief. “Really?”

“I mean, you won the event—“

“No, I’m just,” Hyunjin steps aside, water bottle full, “surprised that you watched, is all.”

Heejin shrugs as she starts to fill her water bottle. “I wanted to watch, I guess,” she says, suddenly serious.

Hyunjin had never felt more awkward, and she isn’t sure whether it’s a byproduct of her awkward crush or a result of actually being, well, awkward. Usually she can get out of it, say something spontaneous and funny that’ll break the tension, but—

“Alright,” Heejin says, finishing filling her water bottle. “Guess I’ll see you, then?”

And with that, she walks away.

 

\--

 

After that, they keep meeting for some reason. Whether it's at the beginning of practice--when Heejin will ask Hyunjin to be partners for warmups--or the end of practice--when they'll fill water bottles together, shoulders brushing and eyes shy, Hyunjin begins to expect to talk to Heejin every day.

Somehow, in the middle of it all, Hyunjin gets Heejin's number too. She isn't sure how that played out--to be honest, Heejin is the type of person to charm someone out of their clothes without them noticing--but now they text, too, on top of everything else. It's exhilarating.

She isn't sure what Heejin wants. They're at this weird gray area, an in between. It feels like it's raining while it's sunny, it feels good but not good enough.

"Wanna sit with me?" Heejin asks, patting the seat beside her.

Hyunjin turns over to Jaemin, eyes wide. She's never sat with Heejin before, not on a one-hour long bus ride to the school. Usually, she spends most bus rides playing 8-ball Pool with Jaemin.

Jaemin shrugs, mouthing something like, Get your girl! and Hyunjin decides to sit with Heejin.

Their thighs brush against each other for a moment when the bus initially starts. Hyunjin looks down at her legs and rues the fact that she forgot to shave yesterday. Would Heejin notice? Would Heejin care? Heejin seems like the type of person to say fuck society's beauty standards even though she's the prettiest person Hyunjin has ever met.

"Hey," Heejin says softly. Outside the blurry bus window, the sun is starting to set. It makes Heejin look like a piece of art, broad strokes of shadows and orange-warm tones.

"Hey," Hyunjin replies, watching the way Heejin's eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. She realizes--oh, maybe Heejin's nervous.

And that, for some reason, gives Hyunjin all the more courage.

"Hey," Hyunjin repeats, whispering. She closes her eyes, leaning her head against Heejin's shoulder. "Hey, I like you."


	2. winwin/yuta; soulmates!au

Sicheng, as a child, doesn't think much about soulmates until a string of undecipherable letters appears on his arm. He's old enough to read the language he speaks at school, fluent in the Wenzhou dialect, and it'll be a couple of years before he'll start learning English as well, but Sicheng knows that it's a different language altogether. Similar but not quite. When he shows his mom, she frowns.

"Oh, Sicheng," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, "your soulmate is Japanese."

Japan? Sicheng has not known anything besides the walls of his parent's apartment, the confusing streets and always-in-progress buildings that make up Wenzhou. To him, it might as well be on the other side of the world.

After that, he still doesn't think that much of his soulmate.

 

—

 

His soulmate must think of him, though, is what Sicheng concludes. As the years pass, Sicheng’s arms are consistently covered in scribbles of kanji, some bits of which he can decipher but most of which makes no sense.

Sicheng considers writing back, but he doubts his soulmate would get much out of it. What’s the point, really?

Would they ever even be able to meet?

 

—

 

Sicheng has his first “conversation” with his soulmate when he is sixteen. He’s majoring in traditional Chinese dance, and practice is an every-day, grueling ritual that lasts several hours. He loves it, he thrives off of it, really.

There’s nothing like the satisfaction of being able to land a flip or execute a turn perfectly.

One day, that perfection eludes him. It’s so—frustrating. He isn’t sure whether it’s because he misses home, whether it’s because he didn’t sleep that much, whether he isn’t good enough—

When he stumbles for the fifth time, bruising his legs, writing begins to scrawl across his arm. Sicheng’s used to it, by now, even though the frequency of his soulmate’s writing has decreased over the years.

But this is different. First, his soulmate writes in Japanese. Then, his soulmate writes in English that Sicheng can kind of understand— _Are you okay?_ , they’re asking. His soulmate proceeds to write the same message out in different languages.

Sicheng can’t help but laugh aloud when his soulmate writes in Chinese—the stroke order is completely off, and the message is so garbled that they must have used some sort of online translator—but at that point, he decides to respond.

He digs through his practice bag, looking for a pen to write with. And then, and then—what language should he respond in? Would it matter?

In the end, Sicheng writes a simple _I am okay_ in both Chinese and English, following it up with a smiley face.

His soulmate’s response is instantaneous.

 _Where are you from?_ they ask.

And that’s how it begins.

 

—

 

Sicheng learns that his soulmate’s name is Yuta, and that he likes to play soccer and watch anime. In some ways, they seem to have a lot in common—their birthdays are similar, mere days apart, and they have the same preferred ways of spending their downtime. But in other ways, they seem scarily apart.

Sicheng doesn’t want to try to message Yuta, even if he knows how to use a VPN and bypass everything. There’s some part of him that’s afraid they’ll never meet, and it’s easier to not care about Yuta when he doesn’t know what he looks like or sounds like.

Though, eventually, he ends up caring anyways.

 

—

 

At some point, Yuta moves to Korea. He’s a trainee at SM Entertainment, he tells Sicheng. A trainee for one of the biggest agencies in South Korea, working towards a pipe dream to debut as an idol.

When Yuta tells him, Sicheng can’t help it—he checks out the website, trying to figure out more about it.

He sees the dancers, the singers, and the actors. He thinks to himself, maybe I could be a part of that dream.

 

—

 

Sicheng has always been a high-achiever, from school to dance to beyond. He places among the top 1% in the nation, gets into one of the most prestigious acting schools in the country, and then—

And then he leaves it all to go to Korea.

To his parents, it makes no sense. _Why don’t you stay here?_  they ask. _You’re already doing so well._

His friends say the same.

He doesn’t tell Yuta about it. At first, it was because he wasn’t sure whether he would get into SM Entertainment. Now, it’s out of a combination of nervousness and anticipation.

What will Yuta think, when they meet?

 

—

 

It’s underwhelming, really. One of the managers introduces him to the dorm, and Sicheng bows, the back of his neck burning.

He practiced this greeting for ten minutes yesterday, and he tries to get out the syllables as clearly as possible.

“Hello, my name is Sicheng,” he says. “Please welcome me.”

Sicheng knows who it is—who _Yuta_ is—as soon as he straightens back up. There’s only one person in the room with a stare that intense, with their eyes glowing with realization.

Yuta’s beautiful, Sicheng thinks. Tired, yes, but he shines despite it all.

Later, Yuta will introduce himself. Later, Yuta will help him with Korean, and the two of them will watch anime, and they will learn each other just as they learn languages. Later, they will be together.

But for now, this is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](http://twitter.com/mathmxrk) / [cc](http://curiouscat.me/mathmxrk)
> 
> comments & kudos are love & i really appreciate it!!


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